


Karma

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Complicated Relationships, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13756953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When the Swiss base exploded, everything was turned on its head, and it took months to repair what had happened; from relationships to mental states. Now, after all this time, Overwatch manages to get their hands on Talon's own Reaper, and things get even more interesting as he begins to infiltrate Overwatch from their own base. But will Reaper find out the dark secrets Overwatch has been hiding behind their flashy name and 'good morals'?





	1. Standing Face to Face

**Author's Note:**

> I only have one rule in regards to this piece of work; No ship hating. That's it. Just respect any ships that may show up in here. If it's not something you like, by all means, just back out, please. That being said, hope you enjoy if you stay and read.

The click of heels echoed through the hall - the doctor all but shoving the other aside, blue eyes bright and determined as she tried to elbow her way through the hall. Small as she was compared to the cowboy, it was relatively easy for him to grab her shoulders and halt her in her endeavour, to hold her as close as he dared; there were moments the medic was far stronger than most gave her credit for, and usually it was when she was so adamant.

Instead, McCree held her in place, cigar long since abandoned on the ground, and he spun Angela to face him, “Ang, _please_ ya gotta listen to me,”He was pleading at this point, desperate for her to stop, to listen to him instead of just barging in and getting hurt.

They’d brought him in, he was _here_ in the headquarters, and somehow before they could cover it up, the walls had echoed down to her medical quarters, and Angela had all but stormed down towards confinement. Jesse had brought him in, too, and he still sported marks on his arm - thank someone it was the mechanical one and he could still keep his good arm - and there was a scratch down his face from those damned claws but his own injuries were there least of his concern. Doctor Ziegler getting her hopes up and then finding out the truth, only to shut down on them again….No one wanted that. Jesse wasn’t ready for that to happen, it had taken so much time to get her to open up after the Swiss Base had gone supernova, he didn’t think he could survive her shutting him out again.

“Jesse, if what I heard is correct, I’ll see him soon _anyways_ unless you all snuck another medic in as well to tend to him,” Oh, she’s aggravated, and her tone hurt to hear. Angela was always sure she didn’t come off as cross to him - until he missed a check up - and Jesse’s frown only fell further. There was _logic_ in it, damn her, and he couldn’t argue, but...perhaps he was just selfish. He wanted to keep the angel to himself, safe in his arms and away from the pain she was trying to walk headlong into.

“...Ang…” He can’t argue it, his grip weakens, and she can feel it. For a moment, her resolve softens, and a hand reaches up to brush along his cheek, trying to soothe him, “I can’t lose ya ‘gain, it took so long to get ya back last time, darlin’....” He swears that’s not a tear threatening to slip free.

Angela watches him closely, impossibly bright blue searching brown, and she can’t help a faint smile of her own, “Liebling, this will change nothing...But,” And there’s the shift, fingers curling in his goatee and tugging him to her level, eyes narrowing at him, “If you keep me from this again, I swear to you, I will hide every drop of whiskey in the room, and I will throw out all of those cigars you love so much,” It’s as much a threat as she’ll make - she refuses to inflict bodily harm, not when she has to repair it anyways. 

It’s then, when he’s stunned and staring at the sudden shift, that she spins on her heel and storms off away from him; Swiss fury in a snow white lab coat, a porcelain hurricane, and for once he feels bad for those in confinement more than her. He knows what she’s about to walk into, but he doesn’t think Morrison _or_ his guest are ready for the maelstrom that’s about to grace them with its presence. Preemptively, he turns to head for the medical wing, the office she’s been given in the heart of the base. She’d probably want him there anyways to patch him up.

\-------------

The confinement cell was soundproof, Morrison had made sure of that long before their guest had arrived, and there were two layers between him and the other. Eyes narrowed behind that visor, the distrust there as he shifted his grip on the rifle. He couldn't be too cautious, he was still figuring out who was best to send in there. McCree was out, he'd already been attacked so jogging that memory lane would get Jack nowhere. Lena was out, the scout had already refused to be in there; too tight quarters, too easy for her to be grabbed if things went awry. He couldn't _blame_ her, but at the same time there was irritation there.

He supposed he could ask Genji, the cyborg could deflect anything he needed to, and he could still move fast enough to escape, ideally. It was a sound decision, in his opinion. And to be quite honest, he had been about two breaths from ordering Genji into the cell when the door was thrown open and his attention was drawn elsewhere.

Angela moved in, confident in her steps, and she had parted her lips to speak before her gaze was caught just past Morrison, blue eyes taking in the _havoc_ behind him. Years of being around soldiers, around death and destruction, had taught her to school her expression and hide the horror she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach.

The confinement cage was nothing more than black; a swirling vortex of shadows, and from the pit of them all, red eyes stared, no, _burned_ as they watched. There was fury in them, an unbridled rage that spoke volumes of threats and promises wanting to be unleashed, murderous intent. It shook Angela to her very core, and her indifferent glance from the cage to Morrison was as smooth as any other movement. If the lack of recognition hurt, it wasn’t showing any time soon.

"You couldn't have _sedated_ him so I could check him over, make sure you didn't brutalize him coming in?" Irritation was in her tone, even Genji taking a step back from where he was nearby just incase things had gone sideways. He knew when the doctor was close to snapping - though usually it was when she was elbow deep in work, and hadn’t slept in a bit. This change was odd, but he’d keep her and Jack away from each other if it came to it, he knew she’d never forgive herself for slapping Jack, even in the heat of the moment.

“He was,” Genji spoke where Jack floundered for a response, tilting his head in Angela’s direction, a show of respect despite the fact her presence complicated things. If McCree had let her get this far, it was between them, “It wore off just before we got out of the cell, Lena will be heading to see you later, the Reaper got a swipe off on her before she got out, she’s a bit jumpy.”

“Thank you, Genji,” Curt, polite, and a brief incline to return the nod, before looking to Jack, arms settling across her chest as her hip tilted out, staring the commander down now, “I’m going in there.”

“Absolutely not,” Jack didn’t even hesitate, a scowl there behind his mask as he whirled to watch her, drawing his shoulders up out of habit. He was used to arguing with insolent soldiers not listening to commands, not his medic, “There is no reason for you to go into that cage while our own members need your attention. Go tend to McCree and Oxton, by tomorrow we’ll have this sorted out and you can _maybe_ step foot inside and see if he needs medical attention. End of discussion, I don’t need you being stupid and rushing in there.”

The tone set Angela on edge, her feathers ruffled now, as she scowled, hands shifting onto her hips, and a finger was pointed at Jack, a nail prodding, stabbing into his chest, “Stupid or not, it’s my _job,_ Morrison, and you know it. Keeping me out of that cage solves nothing, especially if he ends up needing my help,” She’s scowling, “And tomorrow, whether you’re here to ‘babysit’ or not, I will be looking over our guest and making sure you didn’t do anything to jeopardize this.”

And with that she was spinning on her heels, storming out in a similar fashion that she had arrived in: a whirl of lab coat and a clack of heels angrily singing their complaint as her path led further into base, where her coworkers were waiting to be patched up. She could focus on that much at least, and apologize to McCree for her behaviour.

Jack gave a sigh as she left, letting out tension he hadn’t been aware he was holding. Half of him expected a much more violent outburst, or at the very least her storming in with no regard to her own safety or anything of the like. He looked to Genji, and frowned behind his mask - the ninja’s face just as blank as his own, and there were times he hated that, “Tomorrow, when she’s here, I expect you in this room with her if I’m not,” It was a command, and Jack turned to leave at that, expecting there to be minimal complaint.

“...McCree will be in here, and you know it,” The unspoken comment was far louder, and Jack paused in his leaving. He glanced over his shoulder to Reaper, and gave a sigh. The history between the three was undeniable, but even Jack was hesitant to step in the way of that. It was going to be a mess either way, and Jack feared he was going to be minus a soldier, a medic, or a captive. Either way, it was a headache he didn’t want to focus on just yet, he could worry tomorrow.

“Either way, he may need the back up,” it was all he said before he left, turning his back on Reaper, who was still snarling and swirling in the cage, irritated beyond words and no doubt snarling threats they couldn’t hear, and Genji was left to just sentinel over the cage and wait.

\-------------

Stepping into her medical wing was always, usually, something refreshing to look forward to, it was like returning to her safe place, where she usually didn’t have to worry about anything. But the moment she stepped in, the second she saw Lena perched on one hospital bed, leaning over to poke at the claw marks on Jesse’s face, where he sat on the other bed, she lost her gusto. All of her anger immediately left her shaking, worn; at Jack for not letting her do as she pleased, at Jesse and Lena for getting hurt, even at _him_ for finally showing up again even if it was as an angry cloud of rage and snarled threats.

It was unsteady hands that raised to move Jesse’s hat and brush his hair aside when Lena motioned to him first. Angela gave a soft sigh when she took in the slash, nothing serious of course, but it was enough to bleed and look like a mess. He’d been lucky, and she was sure to murmur that to him, moving to grab the supplies she needed to clean it up. 

Lena came over to help, granted without her usual pep and spring, and Angela merely thanked her, working quietly to clean Jesse up and make sure it wasn’t deep enough to need stitches or staples. It would heal, thankfully, without a scar, so it would be relatively easy to put this all behind them. But it was Lena who spoke off, voice oddly lacking it’s chipper quality, as a hand was placed over Angela’s.

“...We’re sorry, love. We don’t know how to help you, but we’re sorry….” A half hearted smile was there, quirked as it was, and Lena had leaned over best she could to poke a smile up at Angela, who gave a tired one of her own.

“It’s alright, Lena. This, too, will pass. Jack is being stubborn, and we all know he’ll find some air vent to suck himself out of, and we’ll never get our answers. Did I miss him? Yes. Did it hurt to see him in some cage, like an animal?” Oh it destroyed her to see the man that was once so proud, so protective of his team and coworkers in general, caged by them, and held captive, “….More than I care to admit. But I will still do my duty, and I will see to any injuries he may have tomorrow, Jack permitting.” A roll of her eyes at that, and she turned to check Lena over now, working on patching her up just as easily.

Jesse was even quiet at that, though, and just watched her work. His hands fell limp in his lap, feeling useless. His mentor was back in the building, the man that had saved his life on countless times, and from Deadlock, but Jesse had never learned to have his iron will. His emotions still showed too easily, he was a book to read to his friends, and even now his turmoil was palpable.

Reaper was here, Jesse knew what it meant. Angela would no doubt choose, and when Reaper left and shattered her again, he’d be here to pick up the pieces with care, to try and put her back together before Jack just locked her down further in this base. Brown eyes watched Angela, Lena cheering her up, the two talking about something - no doubt something Jesse would roll his eyes at anyways, but it was nice to see the doc smile - and looking far more animated than before.

But his mind coiled tighter and tighter around that one lone thought; he was risking losing his angel again, and it was all because of the devil of a man they had captive in confinement. It forced a quiet sigh from him, but he glanced back up about the time Lena had bounced back to her feet with a thanks chirped up at the doc.

“Take it easy, Lena, and it’ll fix itself by morning. I mean it! I’m sure Emily would tell you the same!” She called out after Lena, who just laughed and zipped off, no doubt to assure said woman that she was fine, and the mission had been a cinch. It was a smiling Doctor Ziegler that turned to regard the cowboy, and he gave a lopsided smile in return.

“S’good to see ya smile, darlin’,” It was a soft chuckle, a hand reaching out to her. There was a hesitation, brief, before Angela took his hand, allowing herself to be pulled closer, standing between his knees as she looked up at him, leaning into his chest, “...Tomorrow we’ll get ya your answers, doc...Or try,” He promised, pressing a kiss to her temple, arms wrapping around her to keep her close, if only for a little bit longer.

A sigh was his response, and Angela’s eyes fell, leaning into his chest and relaxing to the tone of that heartbeat thumping away beneath her ear. She wanted answers, more than anything, but at the same time, she wasn’t ready to just let things be the way they were before. Too much had happened; the reconditioning, the captivity she found _herself_ in due to Morrison’s paranoia, the nightmares that plagued her….All of it was something she struggled to handle, especially with her workload all but tripled in the past few weeks. The stress was mounting and it was something she was going to break under soon, she just knew it. For now, she let eyes slide shut, focusing on that heartbeat to calm her own.

“...I’m not sure I’m looking forward to it, Jesse….It’s been years, after all. So much has changed, I’m almost afraid of what I’m going to find,” she felt the arms tighten around her, and she turned to bury her face against his neck, inhaling the scent there and relaxing, ignoring the troublesome scratch of his beard for now. The cowboy always had such a charm at calming her at the hardest times, and today was no exception.

“Whatever it is...whatever...ya choose,” there was hesitation, and it hurt him to say that,far more than he thought it would, “I’ll be there.” It was the best he could offer, but when he felt those arms curl back around him, fingers twisting into the back of his shirt, he couldn’t help but try to hide the sad smile into her hair, “...Let’s get some sleep, it’s gonna be a busy day tomorrow,” He tried to coax, and succeeded, as he nudged her back so he could stand. 

It wasn’t long before she was swept up into his arms, and he was moving to the living quarters attached to her medical wing. Jack may have been paranoid, but at least she was taken care of, and Jesse didn’t have to walk too far. Although, he would’ve given anything to keep her in his arms, tucked into him as she had, and her head nestled on his shoulder as he moved for the bed.

There was a deep seated fear that his moments like this would be few and far between in the near future.

\-------------

Genji had retreated back to security, allowing confinement to lock down further so no one wandered in without permission. He sat, watching the screens that showed the base. He had watched Lena bounce out of the medical wing, and he had watched Jesse and Angela retreat from it. At least they were fine, both would recover, their injuries not that intense, but Angela’s wounds were emotional, mental even.

The cyborg trusted the cowboy to take care of the medic, but there was still a worry in the pit of Genji’s stomach, a concern that things would get even worse the longer their captive was here. He knew the history, he had attempted to console Angela when she had been locked down initially after the Swiss base incident, before McCree had stepped in.

Their friendship was a mutual understanding of each other, McCree connected on a far more intimate level, something he couldn’t, and frankly didn’t wish to, provide. Each had their fair share of traumatic stress, and as Genji’s gaze fell to the screen that showed confinement, he realized the core of her’s.

Angela had lost everything to the man pacing in confinement; sanity, comfort, protection, companionship, lover….The sheer thought of it alone, trying to comprehend it, had his mind swimming. It had taken months to get her back to her bubbly self, and to get her to smother it back with the rest of her trauma, behind whatever door she conjured. Seeing him had no doubt ripped that door open. Sure, they’d fought against him in operations, she’d seen him across a battlefield, but she had been so focused on her team, keeping them alive, that he was just a passing thought. Seeing him, _focusing_ on him, had already affected her, or perhaps it was seeing him in a cage and the realization of what he had become; an enemy.

A sigh vented from him, and a shake of his head. He’d make sure he was in that room to catch her tomorrow. They couldn’t afford to lose her again, especially if she dragged Jesse down with her. It wouldn’t bode well for the base, and Jack would be after all of them for it. He may not approve of what Jack had done, or how he went about it, but someone had to be the bad guy to do what was necessary sometimes, and Genji couldn’t fault him, not after all the good that had come from having Angela around once more.

But the odd card was still having Reaper here, and as Genji watched him pace that cell, the shadows finally dropping to reabsorb back to him, he frowned, taking in that stark white mask against it all. The man was obviously angered at his surroundings - the glass had marks where claws had tried to break through, to scratch his way out since his shotguns had been taken early in his capture - and who could fault him?The only true concern was sending Angela in there.

McCree would demand to go in with her, Genji would be in the first layer, but could they both react in time? Would their presence just complicate things and turn his ire to _her_ when it wouldn’t otherwise? Would he even recognize the medic or had he fallen that far? He hadn’t openly targeted her in any of the battles yet, but Genji still couldn’t get a feel for whether she would be safe, or if Reaper was just lulling them into a sense of false security, and it was irritating.

They would just have to wait and see, and possibly pray for the best. Already, he was dreading tomorrow.

\-------------

Steps were heavy to carry him around the cell, eyes darting, _prying_ for a weakness in the cage. He couldn’t find one, at least not for now. Perhaps in time weaknesses would show up - this wasn’t Talon, Overwatch wasn’t used to housing prisoners, what would they know of holding a cell for a long period? Surely there was structural weaknesses he could exploit, he just had to wait it out.

Already, it was an obvious difference between Talon and this; there was a bed in the corner of the cell and a private cubicle for a latrine - not that he needed such trivial things anymore. It was an odd comfort, a reminder of just how inhuman he _wasn’t_ anymore, and with a growl he found himself seated on the bed as it was, looking to his hands.

They’d long since locked down this room, he knew it, there was no one standing guard anymore, at least not in sight. It made no sense for them not to have locked it down, not given who they had caged like some zoo display. The very thought had a snarl hiss through gritted teeth, and Gabriel shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

Talon had done leaps and bounds worse than this, he could tolerate this, if only to get answers. He could play nice, he could play into their hands, and at the very last moment, he could rip it all away from them, and have rather juicy intel to take back to Talon. Yes, it’d be perfect. The sneer curled into a smirk under that mask, and a chuckle shook his shoulders.

The Soldier would be easy enough to irritate, but perhaps he could be placated. The Glitch would avoid him, he’d felt the swipe connect and maybe it was enough to swat that irritation away, though the same couldn’t be said for the Cowboy. That man was too stubborn, always where he didn’t belong - and for a moment there was a brief moment of nostalgia, out of place, but there was a twitch before it was smothered away once more and buried.

The only oddity was the medic. It had him frowning without realizing it. He’d seen her countless times - that Valkyrie suit’s noise was hard to miss, at least for him he realized - and why had she looked so damn _sad_ when she had looked at him, especially after storming in like hellfire itself? It just didn’t add up, and it had a stronger emotion trying to crest in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t pinpoint, and if he focused on it for too long, there was a headache that bloomed in record time.

He couldn’t focus on it, as much as he wanted to, but at the same time, it felt odd to see her like that. But no, he had other fish to fry, the medic was just an annoyance, something to be brushed off. 

She was the least of his worries, so he believed, compared to the rest of the base. For now, he could just relax, lull them into thinking he fell asleep, as he laid on the bed, and save his energy for the real challenge to come.


	2. If These Walls Could Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some friendly encouragement from an old friend, Angela gets her time with the captive, but at what cost will it come?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Mercy & Reaper centric chapter, but I promise! it'll all come together and make sense eventually.   
> I meant to have this chapter up a few days ago, but life has been super hectic and I'm so sorry. I can't promise when Chapter 3 will be up, but it should be sometime in the next week, if all goes as planned!

Waking up had been unpleasant. The medic had woke with a start, yet Jesse slumbered still behind her. Angela hadn’t woken him, and she was pleased. It was rare when he got to sleep in without worrying about her, or about having a mission to traipse off to tend to. It softened Angela’s frown into a smile, fingers brushing gently along his cheek, earning a grumble from him as he shifted to lay on his back with a snore. Angela fought a giggle at that, and used that opportunity to slide from the bed, mindful to keep him asleep. All it took was tucking her pillow along his side, and he was content to sleep on. 

A quick glance to the window confirmed her worries; not even dawn yet. Most of the base would be asleep still, with the bare minimum on staff, and most of that staff probably asleep as well. Not that Angela could blame them, and she’d never rat them out to Jack; sleep was too important and so little happened _in_ the base, she couldn’t blame them. But it had her picking her path carefully to the small cafeteria. A cup of coffee sounded heavenly, and she had an inkling she knew one person who would still be awake.

And no sooner had she stepped into the room, her thoughts were confirmed. Stress seemed to melt away in the presence of the older woman, and Angela’s smile came far easier than she thought it would. As soon as she had her coffee cup clutched in hand, she was beckoned over, and Angela gladly took a seat opposite her superior, “Ana, I had a feeling you would be up.” 

A soft chuckle left the egyptian and she matched Angela’s smile with her own, “You know how it is, my dear. I’ve made it a point to not miss another sunrise so long as I still breathe. No two are alike, and each is breathtaking as the last,” A gesture had Angela turning, realizing Ana had a direct view of the window to watch the sunrise, and Angela gave a soft sound.

“Do you mind?” A gesture to the seat next to Ana, and when there was a shake of her head and a chuckle, Angela happily sat next to her instead of across, “I never thought of it like that...I just couldn’t sleep, I figured coffee would help with the day I’ll have today, start it off right, you know?” A tired chuckle, and her shoulders fell when Ana placed a hand over hers.

“My dear, dear Angela...Don’t let Jack, or even Jesse, or even _him_ tell you what to do today,” A pause, Ana making sure she held Angela’s gaze, “You are one of the strongest fighters this base has, and remember, _always_ fight for what you believe in,” Ana matched her smile once more, “If it’s something you want, fight. Be it equality, safety, or even just proving them wrong. They worry over you for the wrong reasons, my friend.”

Angela gave a weak chuckle, sipping from her coffee as her gaze slid to the window, thinking now, “They worry enough, though, and I don’t need to stress them out any further. Jack has all of Overwatch to worry over, and Jesse doesn’t need to be distracted from whatever he needs to be doing instead. I don’t wish to make anyone’s life more difficult, I just…” A sigh and she trails off.

“Even a phoenix has to go through the flames once in its life, just remember that,” A wider smile, and Ana sips at her own coffee, “Right now, it’s morning. I have not heard Jack yet this morning, you know where Jesse is no doubt...What’s stopping you from doing what you want to now?” An eyebrow raised, “You have as much freedom as anyone else in this base, even if they don’t wish for you to leave it completely...Perhaps Jack will sit here and get caught up in old stories even, who knows. It’s been awhile since he reminisced about the good days.” A thoughtful hum, and a glance to Angela, had the medic perking up and realizing _just_ what the sniper had met.

She stood, cup in one hand, and leaned over to kiss Ana’s temple, “Thank you, so much, old friend. And thank you for sharing your morning with me,” A smile, the widest one to date, and she was quick to vanish back to medical to get what she would need.

A lower chuckle rang behind Ana though, and it was a massive hand that settled on the table before the mug was placed down with a thunk, “You encourage her too much,” Reinhardt’s low rumbling tone was quiet, not wishing to disturb the few around them, or draw attention. Most were used to the pair being there first thing in the morning.

Ana just gave a hum around the brim of her cup, “You and I both remember how those two were. Angela knows what she must do, and she has to be the one to do it. If anyone can tame the animal that he has become at their hands, it’s her.”

“...True, but what if even she can’t tame him?” A serious tone, watching Ana now to see what she would give away in her expression. Reinhardt had worked with her for years, he knew the signs, he would trust Ana with his life, and had, but this...This was bigger than them.

Ana was quiet though, for the longest time, thinking how best to word it. Hands adjusted their grip on the mug, and her face was oddly blank, “If Angela cannot get through to Gabriel, we will far larger problems on our hands than a fallen dove, and you and I both know it,” There was a slight tremble in her tone, Ana refusing to turn her gaze from the window, “But on the same hand, no one will ever come close to breaking through to him except her. We just need him to focus on _just_ her. No rivalry with Jack, no competition with Jesse...Just Angela,” Her gaze finally pulled from the window, meeting Reinhardt’s now, “When Jack comes in here, it is of the utmost importance that he is _stalled_ , especially if Angela _does_ go into confinement.”

A frown was quick to be wiped away with a somber nod, Reinhardt finally understanding. They’d have one chance at this, and Reinhardt would gladly give Angela the best chance she could have.

\-------------------

A glance into the security room has Angela setting the cameras to loop, to buy her time to do what she needed to, to give her the _privacy_ she craved for instances like this. Yet her hands still shook as she walked towards confinement, having to key the code in twice from the tremors. She had very little on her, the usual dress and lab coat, and her hair was down for once - she hadn’t had time to put it up - and the supplies she assumed she’d need were all in a duffle bag on her shoulder. There was no weapon; her pistol had been left behind in favor of being open and honest with him. She wasn’t there to hurt him, she didn’t even think she could if it came down to it.

She had even forgone the heels for flats, making minimal noise as she looked at the confinement cell. It seemed he had slept, or at least was laying on the bed, and while the room was admittedly dim, she could still see just fine. Yet no sooner had the door behind her hissed shut, and the swirl of smoke was there. Reaper was standing, watching her like a hawk. They may have both been unarmed, but there was an obvious advantage for Reaper had he chosen, once she was in the cell. 

“You’re alone, _Doc_ ,” A low rumble, the growl etched behind his words, and Angela had to steel her nerves as she stood before the glass, one hand on the strap of the bag, the other on her hip.

“I hope you slept well, I figured I’d come check on you before the ruckus of the day kicks off. Give you some peace and quiet, privacy,” She wouldn’t rise to the bait, she refused to at this point. It would get her nowhere, “I’m here to make sure you weren’t injured yesterday, please stay back from the door, and try to be cooperative, Gabriel, I’m not your enemy here.” Was it foolish to step right in? Absolutely, but she was pressed for time to do this the way she wanted to, so it was now or never.

She hadn’t even noticed the slip, trying to remain as professional as possible, but _Reaper_ had caught it and eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the shot of pain that jerked through his skull trying to remember why that name was so familiar. He didn’t bite just yet, but he stepped back as far as possible once she had opened the first door, hands held up as innocently as he could manage - claws on display - as she came in and locked herself down with him.

In a blink, she was pinned to the very door that locked, claws around her throat, and that porcelain mask so close to her own face, she could see the shadows that could out with each exhale, hear the snarl just brimming, “What did you call me?” A growl that had her wanting to shake, to bolt and run, but it was too late. He no doubt felt the pulse thundering under his hand, the fear she tried so hard to mask with her own indifference. She hadn’t meant for the slip, but the duffle bag thumped to the floor as her hands scrambled for his arm, fingers clutching in the fabric as she tried to get enough leverage to remember how to breathe.

“I’m the Reaper,” Another hiss, and at this proximity, she met his gaze - looking for the brown eyes she remembered, that she used to love staring at, and instead found nothing but darkness shot through with a splash of crimson; animalistic and demonic. Lips parted, trying to gasp air in, trying to talk and explain, and she couldn’t. There was panic there.

“Let...h-elp,” It was all she could managed, holding his gaze. There wasn’t much she could do, Gabriel was always far more physically superior than she was. There was a thought, though, fleeting. In a split decision, a hand reached out and slid his mask up to the top of his face, knowing she couldn’t just _rip_ it off without risking hurting him and irritating him further.

What she saw had her gasping, tears coming to her eyes for a different reason than the hand to her throat. Skin had been missing, almost looking rotting in some places, but it was filled in with the smoke and darkness, his jaw seemed see-through, but hung together with smoke like the rest. He didn’t seem human, but it _was_ Gabriel, _her_ Gabriel.

He had pulled back in surprise though, and loosened his grip, trying to gauge the doctor now, as he heard her suck air back in as quick as she could, gasping. She had sunk to her knees, chest heaving as she shook once more, “There is no helping a beast,” He sneered down at her, arms folding over his chest, his back to the confinement door and the camera. He didn’t need Overwatch holding this over him as well. Instead, he watched the medic, unable to pin down just what the odd feeling at the back of his mind was, some emotion trying to crest. The headache he got when he tried to chase it had him just shrugging it off, and watching her instead, pleased at the fear he thought he instilled.

But when she looked up at him - why did she look so damn _sad_ all the time?! - he didn’t see fear, he saw what he thought was pity, and there was anger beginning to crest, “I never meant to fail you, Gabriel,” And it was immediately deflated, confusion there instead, and ignorance. He could ignore the name that made his mind lash out at him, “I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to happen.”

Reaper shifted uncertainly on his feet, before he crouched down, a clawed hand grabbing her face, forcing her to not only look at him but hold his gaze. At this angle he could see the bruises beginning to bloom across her neck, and there was a _different_ anger in him, one he shoved aside to consider later, “Explain.” It was the only word she would get, at least for now.

But a lightbulb seemed to click in her mind, and suddenly everything made far more sense. Talon had rewritten him, he hadn’t betrayed them on his own volition. There was hope, and a hand fell to his wrist, “You’re _the_ Gabriel Reyes, you were part of the core of Overwatch, you led Blackwatch,” _you loved me…._ but she didn’t voice that aloud, “You were taken and abused. You don’t remember anything do you?” A new pain choked her voice, and tears still fell as she watched him.

As he tried to focus on the memories, however, pain shot through his skull once more, almost disorienting him. It made no sense, why couldn’t he focus on his thoughts now, when in any given mission he could command dozens of people and think strategies and scenarios for any change of plans at the drop of a hat. Why, suddenly, couldn’t he focus his mind enough for a few measly memories? It made absolutely no sense.

“I’ll...take the silence as a yes,” Angela adjusted herself onto her knees, kneeling across from him, a hand on the duffle bag, “...I used to be your medic, I used to look after you before you became the Reaper, will you let me do it once more?” A quiet hope, pleading with him.

But there was rage there suddenly, and he turned to her. In a flash he was on his feet, eyes narrowed and had her pinned by the shoulders now, staring at her, “If you _used_ to be, what happened? If you claim I used to be someone else, you claim they rewrote me, why didn’t you do your job? Where were you?” 

The accusations hurt, and she couldn’t stop the tears, or the half choked sob that escaped when her back met the glass. She had tried to much to save him, to be there for him, and it had failed, miserably. That failure was in front of her, a glaring reminder she couldn’t avoid even if she wanted to. 

“I’m so sorry I failed you...let me help you now, please,” It was as close as she’d get to begging, “Let me do what I can...You want answers now, don’t you? I’ll give you all I can,” It was a stretch of a promise, but there was hope, a light at the end of the tunnel now. It would irritate Jack and the others to no end, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make, “Please, let me help.”

Reaper had been expecting a long, drawn out issue, having to placate them and sit through whatever torture they devised to get his answers. But this long with their precious angel and she was begging to answer any questions _he_ had, was already tripping over herself to make sure he was happy. Granted, he was swarmed with questions now - who was he, what was Talon hiding from him, what had become of him - but there was still the question of just how well the rest of the base would react, and how much could he weasel out of her?

He held her gaze, searching her face for any sign of a lie. In the tear stained face, and trembling lips, he couldn’t find one. And it forced a sigh from him, ignoring the feeling at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite place. He gave a faint smirk, lips curled over the fangs he’d been given with the darkness, “I’ll entertain your idea, but the minute it starts to bore me, or it’s too far fetched, _I’m gone_ ,” It was a growled promise between them, the threat clear despite not having been spoken. He wouldn’t hesitate to raze the base to the floor if he wanted out, and the information he could glean from her would go right to Talon for intel.

A quiet nod, “...will you let me check you over now? Or am I just going to hang here on the wall and answer your questions?” A brow was raised, and she’s trying to get some semblance of control back over herself, to seem as normal as possible. When there’s a pause between them, and he steps back, letting her stand on her own feet as she scoops the duffle bag up and follows him further into the cell.

The pair are relatively silent, and Reaper looks to her as she seems expectant. A brow merely raises, and she gives a huff - he almost finds it cute, and stops that train of thought before it even starts, the headache rocketing forward - and he merely mimics her pose; hands on his hips for dramatic effect, “Yes, _doc_?”

A glare is there, before she schools it, “I need you to forgo your cloak and claws, they’re far too thick for me to try and feel for injuries,” A stern, almost scolding, tone and she pauses when Reaper gives a smirk, almost feral in appearance.

“Why, doctor, if you wanted me stripped on the bed, all you had to do is ask,” And when the bright flush takes over her cheeks he gives a bark of a laugh. It was going to be far too easy to mess with the medic, let alone the rest of Overwatch. It’d be entertaining at the least, and if it was this easy to get a rise out of her….

“That’s _not_ what I meant, Rey-Reaper,” She catches herself last minute, looking down away from that smug face, to the broad expanse of chest before her - the compression shirt not too different than how he _used_ to dress - and she has to recollect her thoughts, doing her best to claim her professional demeanor once more, “Are there any injuries bothering you? Your stride was off just now, is it your leg or your hip?” She had honed in on it, like any medical professional would have, and by his look of surprise, he hadn’t been expecting it.

“...Laser rounds caught me in the hip,” By the frown she suddenly wore, they both knew who had done it, and she looked less than pleased, but it was hidden back behind a mask. As she moved to gently poke and prod, moving fabric to see the extent of the wound, his skin felt far more solid beneath her touch, and it caught him off guard. It was a question he’d ask later, when he could figure out just how he wanted to word it, as he glanced down to watch her work, arms folded over his chest, “I’m surprised they let you in here without guards, doc.”

She knew it was an offhanded comment, just something to fill the silence as she worked. She didn’t mind it, it helped pass the time, but the comment had her giving a sheepish look, “They...didn’t, at least not _quite_. I was supposed to come in with two others, but being as how it was as early as it was, I wanted to talked to you without any others breathing down _my_ neck, let alone yours.”

That piqued his interest, though, and he shifted his stance slightly when the pain began to be a dull ache in his hip, “Are you telling me you’re here against _orders_? Oh that’s rich, doc,” Another chuckle, and a smirk curls tighter across his face. Disobeying superiors just for a chance to be in here? He couldn’t focus on it too long, not without the headache blooming to full intensity, but it did show promise.

“Not quite,” A pause and she digs through the bag to get a small thing of salve, “This should help your nanomachines repair you, by the way,” She’d caught them, knew what they were at base level - she’d have to run some tests to get the truth of them down - but she knew how to replenish them, “Is there anything we can get you for food, a preference or anything? Surely you need to replenish _something_ to keep your nanomachines up and running,” She’s on one knee, looking up at him as she gently makes sure the salve covers the scorch marks that Jack’s bullets left. 

The sight stirs something carnal in him - a deep, far darker urge that he couldn’t remember being replicated in any act he’d done for Talon, and there’s a mental frown tugging. This one doesn’t spike the headache, but it’s still logged for him to ponder over later, when they undoubtedly leave him alone in his cage. Instead, a shrug is there, “I don’t eat,” and it’s the most nonchalant thing he’s said since she stepped in the cage.

It causes her to frown herself, but she waves it off, standing and adjusting his clothes back over the marks, “Try not to move about too much, let the nanomachines settle and they’ll take care of it,” She’s tucking it back into the dufflebag, before looking up to him, “Can I trust you not to follow me out? I need to make it look like I _haven’t_ been in here, and I’ll be back with the others. I’ll even bring your old file in, so you can look over it. It might dredge up some memories, or answer some questions you might have,” A bright smile, and Reaper can’t help but raise a brow as he shrugs his coat on and refits his gloves on his hands, the mask still atop his head.

No one deserves to be as bright and bubbly as she is - even with the dark bruises across her throat from where he pinned her. There’ll be no _hiding_ she was in here, unless she has a particularly violent lover - the sheer thought had a sharp jolt of jealousy, he recognized it from when Widow used to steal kills out from under his claws, but it’s shoved aside - and the thought makes him focus on her.

“...They’ll know you were in here, but I’ll stay put. It would do me no good to leave when you’ve promised me information and answers,” He does turn to corner her against the glass once more, a hand on either side of her head as he leans forward, smoke curling from under his mask, “or should I be worried about you _breaking_ that promise, _Mercy_?” It’s growled once more, his voice more a purr between them, and he only does it to see that flush erupt once more - he’s genuinely curious of it, most are terrified of him, but not this petite angel - and she delivers.

Her answer is lost to stammers and stutters, but neither one has time for it. Not when the door is hissing open and there’s the sound of footsteps storming down the hall, a visor heard whining up, and Jack Morrison himself comes barreling into confinement, gun charged and ready. Reaper doesn’t even bother to move, but Angela panics and steps away, looking to Jack as her hand tightens on her dufflebag strap. Reaper takes note of the way she stands, the stress, and turns that porcelain mask to Jack, staring down the reason he was in this cage.

But it’s Jack who barks out a response first, sheer anger in his tone, and his disapproval obvious, and it’s _Angela_ who flinches at the accusation, trying to hold her head up and keep her composure. 

“ _Why_ were the cameras off?”


End file.
